


Don't ask for the name,

by rasiel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rasiel/pseuds/rasiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He dedicates years to make sure you will be part of his family.</p><p>So is that why you sometimes wonder if he’s really as alive as the papers seem to tell you that he is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't ask for the name,

I know for a fact that I can no longer hold him, I can no longer lean onto him as support and to be honest, sometimes I wonder if he’s really as alive as the papers seem to tell me that he is. 

I’m an orphan, left on the streets to die like filth at the age of three. He had found me there, all alone and came to feel sorry for me. Picking me up and taking me home as if I was his own, he spoke to the child protective services about taking custody over me since no one knew who my parents were supposed to be but they wouldn’t comply, sending me to every possible home which they could. Families that were wonderful and families that were the worst I had ever encountered. And finally after a lot of fooling around, after having opened the case to the court and after having me crying and wanting to go back to the man which I called my brother; He finally gained custody of me, and I couldn’t have seen myself as more lucky. Any other person would have left me to bounce between families until I was 18 years old. Meanwhile this man fought for me for over 2 years.  
I was soon known by the name of Dirk Strider, his choice of course since I had a name that could be traced back to my former parents. Who he had no intention to bring into my life again. The man, who went by the name Dave for short never told me what my other name (which was the CPS choice) was, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore.

 

As the next 6 years drove on at a quick pace, I was soon happy to find myself turning 11. I was the most intellectual kid in my school, the highest grades for being so young and I was glad for what I did. My brother was proud, I knew that he was and he didn’t have to tell me that. He only needed to ruffle my hair, lifting the corner of his lip up just slightly and I would just know.  
As I slowly turned 12 I would notice that he came home at later hours, he looked exhausted and he wouldn’t as much as pass me a smile when I showed him the graded papers. He stroked my hair once in a while, and I had to tell myself he was proud.

Big brother was just tired, just tired and that was all. I didn’t have to worry about him being home late, after all he would atleast come home. Some kids had parents who just bailed on them and left them to rot in their own filth. But I knew for sure that brother would never do that to me.  
But things would change quickly and when I turned 14, he had been home 1 time during the period of 12 months and it hadn’t been during my birthday. That day had been spent by throwing away a uneaten birthday cake which I had payed for by myself, and a whole lot of self loathing. 

The first time I had met him again was for a month, he had told me to pack my shit and suddenly I was moving to a bigger apartment with new furniture.  
But a week after the big move, he was gone.

 

As I turned 15 in December, he had started appearing in magazines and everybody in class talked to me about some upcoming movie which was in production. My brother was the director and scriptwriter. But I was generally confused by it; I hadn’t heard a word from him for so long and suddenly having people knowing more about him than I did? Sure the magazines held a lot of information about him, but all I knew was his first and last name, his age, and what car he drove last time I met him. That was it; I knew nothing more than that.

 

With April was just around the corner I started getting massive amounts of money submitted to my personal account. And soon there were news about my brothers movie all over the popular magazines it was in matter of fact hitting the theatres worldwide in just a month. The tickets had already started selling because apparently everyone wanted to see it.  
Two weeks after the news of the movie came out, I got my first suit delivered to me by a woman who told me that she was his assistant, and with a gentle shrug I accepted said gift and nearly closed the door straight at in face. But it seemed as though she had more information to give, such as information about the big premiere which was in 13 days from now, that I would be going to California in his private jet to then meet him at the hotel. And he had promised to be there if he didn’t have any obstacles in his schedule, in that case we would meet in the lobby the day after to take a limo together to the big premiere. There was also a note telling me to smile, he hadn’t forgotten me. And that was a quite literal explanation of the letter. It had said:

 

“Smile kiddo, I haven’t forgotten about you.”  
Written in haste: with a bright red ballpoint pen. I would’ve smiled of course, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the dumbest fucking thing I had ever gotten from anyone ever. Why would I have to smile if he hadn’t contacted me for nearly one and a half year, maybe even more? We had barely talked when he came over to tell me that I was going to move and that I had to pack my shit. And here he comes with a note, and that is it? No more. This time I did close the door in her face before she had finished talking, because I was suddenly too tired for social interaction.

 

My opinion changed slightly about him as I opened the black bag which held my first suit, it was black like any other suit, designer of course. But the suit vest was bright orange, shirt black and a white tie. It looked like he had remembered my favourite colour and it made me feel a bit warmer on the inside. So for a brief moment a smile lit up my cheeks, and I sat there stroking the fabric of the suit. But I decide not to try it on, it was better to keep it as smooth as possible for when I was actually going to wear it in the close future.  
As the days passed, I was excited to finally getting to meet him, everyone around me talked about the new movie that was coming out. I had heard people being excited over movies before but there was something with having the directors’ younger brother in the school, and because the movie is said to have the piece of comedy that had been missing from the theatres since the first movie theatre opened back in 1894.  
There are several times during the days where people ask for my brothers’ autograph but I tell them off, saying that it would have to be another time and not today. I’m not in the mood to memorize people’s requests, I’m way too excited to manage myself so how do I manage other people's requests at the same time.

 

The planes interior is alright, there is an obvious hint of your brothers’ odd obsession with the colour red, both dark and bright. Aswell as his addiction to things with the taste of apples: apple vodka, apple juice, and apple cider. All of it is in the small fridge that I found on the plane, and I have to force back laughter. He sure as hell is the same man that he always has been, or so it seems like at least. I manage to get some rest during the 3 hour flight to Los Angeles, California.

Once at the airport, my drowsiness is met by a black polished Crown Victoria with a private driver. It doesn’t surprise me though, not after the private jet and the expensive as fuck suit. I look nowhere near as fancy as the service men and women who I am suddenly surrounded by do. And it’s quite embarrassing, but I keep my expression straight so that my embarrassment become less visible. Afterall this is who I am; I don’t wear suits like Dave, the big handsome director who adopted me into his family at a young age. 

 

No one would really see that unless they looked closely.

Dave’s skin doesn’t take up sunshine as mine does and therefore he is pale, skin beige but not even the slightest bit tanned for someone who has been living in Texas their whole life. My own skin is a bit darker than his and picks up sunlight much quicker. If I’m outside too much I’ll burn, which might be why I go out during the afternoon and night rather than during the daytime. If I even go outside at all.  
And part from Daves eyes, mine are caramel brown. Or so I would like to say, it’s much easier to lie about mine than it is for him to lie about those crimson red eyes like blood. In bright sunlight there is a bigger chance for my eyes to have their normal eye color, which just happens to be orange. Bright fucking orange, sure it is my favorite color but having such a bright shade like that in my eyes wasn’t something any normal person would enjoy. I couldn’t count the times I had been called a demon the past 15 years for whenever I had to take my shades off, or gotten them punched off of my face.

Daves hair is sun bleached, nearing white blond or strawberry blond and sure it suits him, in a way. Even if it makes him look kind of like an old man whom is trying to look cool by chemically bleaching his hair brighter. Though both of us know that isn’t true, big brother has never bleached his hair because that would be out of his normal standards, to stay as far away as he possibly could from anything that could ruin his body. I know that for a fact because my brother once tried bleaching his hair which resulted in it getting ruined.  
He sued the company for ten million dollars, and got at least half. But it was “Better than nothing.” he had said, the company had refused him the other half, but they sent 5 million dollars and a note telling him not to make fake rumors about them so that their company wouldn’t go to hell. It was already too late though, soon no one bought their products because they were scared to have their hair ending up like Daves.

 

The driver taps my shoulder, I look up in near shock, eyes widened and mouth open. Apparently I didn't notice that we went in for a stop, I didn't for a single second look out the window and take in the view of Los Angeles. The driver asks me if I slept well and I nod discretely, quickly getting out of the car. My bags are already standing on the sidewalk; I must have been gone for quite some time if I didn't even notice the trunk being emptied, or him opening the car door.  
Without speaking I take my bags, nodding a simple thanks to the driver as I find my way into the hotel, it feels odd to be at such a gigantic place with so much people in and I can feel myself panic for a second. I have managed it more than easily in the past, trying to find my classes quickly and avoiding most social contact and the filled corridors.  
But this room is filled with people of every kind, but I can see that they are much more used to the formal life than I am. Hurrying over to the reception I talk to the concierge for a moment, she asks me what name the reserved room is signed with. And I mention both mine and my brothers’ name.  
She looks thoughtful, looking it up on the computer before she confirms that both names are registered on this hotel. I get a warm feeling in my gut, my brother is in the room in front of my own. It gives me more than one chance of at least getting a glance of him tonight.

 

I lie down on the soft bed, ignoring the fact that I should probably take my shoes off at first because really. Who would lie on a hotel bed without their shoes on? That’s right, no one. Trying out the bed is one of the most important things to do, no matter what else a person needs to do after checking into the hotel. The bed is always the number one priority.  
And the fact that this bed is so soft that it has me drifting off to sleep is no lie.

 

I wake up from a loud thud onto my door and hushed voices, whispers and giggles. Obviously drunk people, my eyes hover over to the clock on the nightstand, it’s 2am and I’ve been asleep for way too many hours. This means I will be exhausted in the morning and during the day, because I can forget being able to fall back asleep any time soon.  
As a thud can be heard again I react by sitting straight up, a little annoyed by it. If they could shut up then maybe I could be able to think without disturbance. On quick feet I hurry over to the door, ready to throw it open and scream for them to shut their gaps and go fuck themselves.  
But instead of speaking, my mouth hangs agape and I stare at the man in the hallway.


	2. When all you care for is fame.

He on the other hand looks at me like he is annoyed by my mere existence.  
“What are you up for Dirk, go the fuck to sleep.” He hisses at me, the undertone of his voice is noticeably drunk. My eyebrows go from relaxed to knit on my forehead, displaying a few of my stress wrinkles. This is the first time my brother has spoken to me in years, and these are the first words he decides to say. Sure he is drunk, I can accept that. But it’s quite easy to see that he isn’t nearly as drunk as anyone would think, the lady in his arms is on the other hand wasted.  
“It’s difficult to sleep when you’re planning to fuck some drunken lady against my door.” I spit back at him, and I can feel him stare me down into the shoes I am wearing, trying to act high and mighty but for the first time in forever, I stand up against someone. No one is allowed to act this way towards me, I’ll stand up for myself now and forever.  
“At least I get some.”  
I say nothing in reply to his words and roll my eyes because he looks like he succeeded with burning me, the girl is giggling when I shut the door in their faces. Going to lie down on the bed; bringing out my computer to get on pesterchum. Finding that Jake is online, and I choose to spend most of the night chatting with the guy.

 

At 12.00pm I’m awoken by a harsh knocking on the door, I thought I wouldn’t fall asleep but as it turns out I did. I check the computer quickly, finding Jake having spammed me after supposedly passing out on the bed in front of my laptop.  
“Open the fuck up.”  
It’s been two minutes since he knocked the first time, and I almost fall off the bed as I try to untangle myself from the sheets. I manage to open the door, and he steps inside of my room wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Looking more or less comfortable, his eyebrows are knit and he looks awfully annoyed. Pushing past me into the room, and I close the door without a single word said.  
“We need to talk about some rules for the premiere.” He speaks in a strict voice, his expression near to completely passive. And I get a little bit confused, why would one have rules over the premiere. Except for good behavior: of course.  
“...I don’t see why you need to put rules on me; I don’t think I’ll wreck the place.” For that reply I get an angry glare, and I become quiet in an instant. Biting back my words and nodding for him to continue.  
He straightens his back at that, looking like some sort of prideful animal. Preferably a cat, or a lion. I sit down on the bed to listen better, crossing my legs on the soft material underneath me. He takes the only chair in the room and sits on it, legs on each side of the backrest. In a reversed position.  
“Aight kid, listen tight to what I have to say. If you get anything wrong, this shit might ruin my career.”  
“I’m listening.”  
“Let’s take this from the top. First of all, do not under any circumstances mention my absence to the reporters. Second, talk about me like you used to when you were a kid. I don’t want any of the reporters to call me a bad parent, tell them I have been in contact with you everyday for the past few years.”  
I prevent him from talking anymore by raising my hand; I can feel slight annoyance bubbling inside of my stomach. Telling me; that I am extremely tired of hearing him speaking already.  
“So you want me to lie to the press?”  
The only reply I receive in return is a slight shrug of his shoulders as he proceeds to speak, tone a bit stricter than before since he apparently has to act high and mighty with me.  
“It isn’t lying, it’s just a reversed story being told. Alright, it is a lie but for what does that matter? I have to keep my reputation up and going.” He waved his hand in front of himself as he kept going on about how important his reputation was to him and I stopped listening after a minute.

“Dirk, are you listening to me?”  
I had absentmindedly taken out my phone and was pressing buttons on it’s screen to type out a text message, and for some reason he was he one who noticed it rather than me. But I managed to finish the text and send it before David took the phone out of my hands and put it on the table behind him.  
“Dude, give me my phone back.”  
He shook his head and told me to recite his words but since I hadn’t listened I just said a bunch of bullshit that had something to do with reputation and celebrityhood. But it only seemed to anger him more because the way I spoke was apparently a way of being ignorant as I made him and his words sound ridiculous although it was all so very “important” for me to know.  
When he was finished talking he told me that I needed to take a shower or else he wouldn’t want me to join him at the premiere, which was completely illogical because I showered once a day and since he was here I just simply hadn’t gotten the time to do such. He then left me alone in the room and I went to flush down my frustration down the drains in a piping hot shower.

 

The suit felt tight and uncomfortable now, it didn’t seem to fit me as well as I would’ve hoped for it too. It was my size but I didn’t feel comfortable in fancy attires at all, I preferred t-shirts and tight jeans rather than a suit. No matter how good I looked in it. I was reminded by an angry voicemail from my brother that I had an hour to get ready before we were going to have to be on the red carpet, and that I should hurry my “fucking” ass up or he would leave me hanging. Yet I tried not to stress too much as I fixed my hair, almost going strand by strand to get it to perfection. I didn’t want any curls in my hair, I wanted it to be straight back and looking good. Once done I had at least two empty bottles of hairspray lying in the bathroom sink.  
I took the opportunity to check on my clothes so there weren’t any crinkles on it, in case David would comment on that aswell. And without a word I left for the hotel lounge, seating myself in a chair to wait for my older brother to join me. I wasn’t very excited for this night anymore but I was going to try getting through it, if not I would take a cab back to the hotel. The hotel was booked for 7 days, which was something I had not been informed on from the start. It meant I had to spend a week in a place with people I didn’t know, with celebrities and as the director icons little brother. Just the thought had me gagging because I’d rather stay at home.


	3. Because your actions bring me shame.

Sure, some celebrities were pretty pleasant, but I wasn’t a person who hung around with anyone of a higher status. And it didn’t matter if my brother was a celeb aswell, I for one refused to find a liking in people of such high standards and good lives.

 

Maybe because: I was jealous.

David was soon seen going out the elevator, he was at least five minutes late but he seemed to act like he had meant to be so late. As I stood up, he fixed my tie and made it sit nearly too tight around my neck, but when I told him it felt like I was choking. He fixed it for me, making it just a slight bit looser, I gave him a nod that it felt better and he admitted that it did indeed look better. We headed outside fairly quickly, meeting up with the same car as before. A black Crown Victoria and he told me a limousine would be too fancy for both of us. Besides, this car had much nicer interior as well as an exterior that howled the phrase RICH PEOPLE on the top of it’s mechanic lungs. 

And it wasn’t enough that the cars’ registration plate had the word ‘FMAOUS’, a famous phrase which he was quite known for misspelling. The only word he never seemed to spell correctly, it could also be because everyone had put it on his autocorrect in most of the machines which he owned. Trolling him confusing him when someone sent him the word in it’s original spelling.

 

Suddenly I wish I’d stayed at the hotel because the lump in my stomach is making me go nuts, I haven’t been this nervous since I went to kindergarten for the first time. Not since I began first grade, and that quite a lot of years ago. I give him a quick glance but he looks calm, back against the backrest and legs crossed. For once I wish I could maintain my cool as well as he can, but I’m horrible at it compared to him.  
My solitude may have provided me with an emotionless expression much alike my brothers but at places where my solitude is crushed by a big hoops of people. I never know where to place myself.

So when he pulls me out of the car I nearly freeze, eyes widened behind my shades. There's a red carpet with only a few celebrities on, but on each sides stands hundreds and hundreds of people awaiting each and every celebrity. Tgere are flashing lights almost blinding me and although I wear shades I am forced to blink a few hundred times until I am able to see again without the big light spots in front of my eyes disturbinf my sight forward.  
David tugs at my arm and pulls me along with him, an arm around my neck. I feel sick.

"Strider! Strider! Is this your adoptive brother?"  
"You bet it is."  
"Strider! What's his name?"  
"Dirk, his name is Dirk."  
"Tell us more about him!"  
"No need to, I think he ca-"

David is looking down at me, his eyebrows are knit in a somewhat concern. But I feel like I’m going to faint or throw up, my throat is burning and my head is pounding in protest. I'm facing him but I'm seeing black rather than actually seeing him. I can feel his arm snake down around my waist as he pushes past the crowd, somewhat acting rather sympathetic which surprises me.  
Though he stops soon for a few more photos before he rushes past, I’m trying to be steady just for his sake but I am soon clinging to his suit with my breath erratic. He notices it, and brings me inside of the building. David has me leaning up against the closest wall with the least amount of people around me, he pushes his shades back up into his hair and when I open my eyes after having calmed down a bit, I see a pair of red orbs. He waits until I’m calm before he starts to speak.

“Yo kid, the hells up with you?”  
I’m a bit surprised by his harsh tone but I try to ignore it, maybe I’m just making it sound more harsh in my head.

“You’re actin like you’ve never seen a fuckin’ crowd before.”

I take a deep breathe and move to push my shades up aswell, meeting his red eyes with my orange ones and let out a heavy sigh seconds later.

“Da... Dave, I’m no... t used to... this kind of attention.”   
My voice is broken and I am panting like I just ran a marathon, it makes it hard for me to speak without pauses. I can feel that something is creeping in my body, and I know that I am having an anxiety attack.

“Are you sure you’re really my kid, I mean come on it’s easy to be in a crowd like that. I mean just look at me swaying my hips like a fuckin queen as I walk straight through the crowd. Bitches be almost prays-”

I’m staring daggers at him by now, the way he is taking this is ridiculous. And oh do I want to hit him or yell at him, but I don’t feel as though that would be a necessary action. I would rather refrain from doing so as it can make him angered and I wouldn’t want that for anything in the world. 

“What’s your problem?”   
He says, glaring back at me and that is when I put my shades on again with a snarl. Making noises like a dog won’t get me far in life but hopefully it’ll make Dave understand that I’m not agreeing with his actions.  
I take a deep breath.

“Dave, I’ve got social anxiety so you can’t exactly expect me to find it easy when a bunch of reporters are screaming and flashing their cameras at my face. Now I’m not up for debate about the subject, so can we get along with what we were here for?”  
My voice is just as dry and angry as his was just a second ago to make it clear that I am not up to listen to his comments.


End file.
